


Falling's Only Natural (but boy does it hurt!)

by Jayfire



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a Prat, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, hunt gone awry, mostly comfort, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 17:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18945853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayfire/pseuds/Jayfire
Summary: "That should have been Merlin's first clue. Arthur was never happy that early in the morning. Never. But, like the foolish boy he was so often accused of being, Merlin payed no attention to the King's unusual cheeriness."Or, Merlin was having a good time, enjoying the first day of spring, then Arthur takes him on a hunt and ruins everything. (But then he makes it better).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Arthur Carrying Hurt Merlin](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/484723) by Artisticookie. 



> It was a battle and a half to finish this story, but between finals, essays and scholarship applications, I did it!
> 
> First, I would like to thank Artistcookie for giving me the honour of writing for this gorgeous and adorable artwork. It was a pleasure working with you Cam! Thanks for letting me play around with your idea, and I'm sorry if it doesn't quite meet your expectations.
> 
> Next, a big thank you goes out to Em who beta read all 500 drafts I had of this (and who caught my switching from King Arthur to Prince Arthur throughout the first copy of this draft). Thanks a million my dear! 
> 
> Finally, I need to thank the mods for all their hard work putting this fest together and keeping us all organized. Y'all are amazing and I can't thank you enough! This was the first fest I've ever felt confident participating in, and I'm glad I did. I might be super nervous to post this, but I had a good time writing it, and I've really enjoyed the other submissions so far!
> 
> Title is partly from the song "Na Na Na" by Pentatonix ("falling's only natural, just spread your wings and fly"). 
> 
> Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by BBC and Shine, neither Artistcookie nor myself make any profit off of this.
> 
> Chapter 2 contains Cam's artwork! Be sure to visit Artisticookie on tumblr and tell Cam how much you love it!!

Merlin was having a great week. There had been no bandits, no armies, no vengeful sorcerers, nor any proposals in nearly a month. (Don’t ask why the marriage proposals upset Merlin, he was sure he had no idea. No, Gwen, I’m not jealous, thanksforasking.) He hadn’t had to clean out Gaius’s leech tank in nearly as long as that. It was also the first real week of spring.

Sure, the equinox was long gone, and it had “officially” been spring for a fortnight already, but that didn’t count! There had still been snow of the training grounds and ice on the cobble stones. Merlin had still been sleeping in front of the fire in Gaius’s workroom because his own room was still too cold at night. Just last week, Arthur had thrown a fit when a thin layer of snow spiralling down from a thickly overcast sky abruptly cancelled the first training session of the season. That on its own was proof enough that winter had yet to release its icy hold over Camelot.

This week though, oh this week was pure bliss! All remaining signs of winter had vanished. The sun was high in the sky, shining, its rays reaching down, kissing once-frozen ground, warming it and bringing it back to life. No more snow, no more ice, no more grumpy prats thrashing his rooms because he couldn’t thrash his knights. The market was booming, vendors from the villages pouring back into the city now that the paths were clear. Merlin was sleeping in his own bed, in his own room, and he was back to wearing just one tunic under his coat. It was marvellous.

When he woke up that morning, the sun (the sun!) lighting up his little room, Merlin couldn’t help but smile at the birdsong outside his window, and the smells already filtering up from the market below. Spring had finally, _finally_ , arrived in Camelot.

Descending the steps into Gaius’s workroom, he greeted his mentor with a bright, “Hello!” before skipping past him to the door. Merlin hummed as he walked to the kitchens to fetch the king’s breakfast, nodding to the other servants as he passed. By the time he reached the kitchen, he was whistling. Not even the head cook’s spoon rapping his knuckles when she caught him trying to steal an extra tart could wipe the smile from his face.

(“But Mary, it’s for the king! You know how much he loves his tarts, you don’t want to disappoint the _king_ do you?”

“You think I’m a fool, boy? I know the king doesn’t like those tarts! He only eats the strawberry pastries!”

“Oh, right, silly me. Thanksforthetartbye!” Merlin yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted out of the kitchen, breakfast tray in hand, one extra raspberry tart balanced precariously on the edge of Arthur’s fruit plate.)

Even Arthur was in a good mood. He was already sitting at the table, rolled pieces of parchment neatly stacked in front of him, with a small smile on his face. He looked well-rested and content.

That should have been Merlin’s first clue. Arthur was never happy that early in the morning. Never. But, like the foolish boy he was so often accused of being, Merlin payed no attention to the King’s unusual cheeriness.

“Breakfast is served, your pratliness,” he said, gracelessly plopping the tray on the table and swiping his tart in one fell-swoop.

“You still don’t get it do you? I’m the king, and you can’t talk to me like that. I could have you thrown in the stocks, you know,” Arthur said around a mouthful of sausage, but there was no bite to the words. Everyone, even the peasants living at the very edge of the citadel knew Arthur would never throw Merlin in the stocks. He’d miss him too much.

  
Merlin just hummed around his tart and began tidying his prat’s chambers. Honestly, they had been clean just last night when he’d put the king to bed. How on earth were they so messy now? Did an army of goblins sneak in overnight to throw Arthur’s underthings around the room? He rolled his eyes, arms full of discarded clothing, and walked over to the armoire, nearly tripping over a saddlebag in the process.

  
That should have been his second clue. Arthur was not in the habit of keeping saddlebags in his rooms. But Merlin just stumbled past, put the clothes away, and walked back to Arthur’s table to see if there were any leftovers he could steal.

  
He made it four steps before Arthur delivered the blow and accomplished what the cook had failed to do. With one simple sentence, he ruined Merlin’s good mood and put an end to his great week.

  
“Pack my things, Merlin, and ready the horses for a two-day hunt.

 

Merlin was _not_ having a good day.

  
They had only left the castle two hours ago, but he already had two hares strung over the front of his saddle, and he was sure Arthur would find a third before long.

  
He had tried babbling his way out of it, suggesting Arthur bring Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, or Leon instead of him. But nooooo, the king had insisted on it just being the two of them. This really meant he had wanted to go alone, but didn’t want to carry his own gear or his kills, so he’d needed to drag Merlin along, too.

  
It wasn’t fair. Arthur knew Merlin hated hunting. He hated the sight of dead animals, and skinning the rabbits to prepare them for dinner always made him nauseas. He had cried the first time he had seen Arthur shoot a deer. At least they had the horses. Merlin was sure he would have accidentally shot the stupid prat in his stupid back by now if he had been forced to walk _and_ carry the rabbits. Bad enough they were bouncing along on his saddle, at least this way he didn’t have to touch them.

  
Of course, just when he’d thought that, the forest’s undergrowth became too thick for the horses to walk on safely. Brambles clustered around the bases of the trees and ferns concealed fallen logs and protruding roots. Arthur, recognising the potential dangers of continuing on horseback with so much groundcover, called a halt.

  
“Merlin, tie the horses off here. I hate leaving them alone, but there’s no other choice. If we push on, you’re sure to lead Rhiannon right off a cliff, and then where would we be? No, we’ll have to leave them here and continue on foot.”

  
Merlin sighed, mumbling about dollopheads under his breath, but he dismounted and secured the horses. He removed their saddles, hiding them in a nearby hollowed-out log. He was just about to lob the hares into the surrounding trees when Arthur turned around.

  
“ _Mer_ -lin! What is taking you so lo-” He paused, squinted at his manservant. Merlin slowly lowered his arms and tried to hide the rabbits behind his back. The king’s eyes narrowed. “And what do you think you’re doing with those?”

  
Merlin said nothing. He scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot and looked up at the King from under his lashes, trying his best to look like the puppies he had to feed back at the castle. Hopefully, his wide, doe-like eyes and bashful countenance would hide the fact that he had been about 2 seconds away from tossing the hares into the trees.

  
“Merlin. Were you going to throw my rabbits away? I worked hard to catch those!” Arthur bellowed, clearly not fooled by Merlin’s innocent act. He huffed, rolled his eyes and said, “Just for that, you can be the one who skins and cleans them. Until then, I’ll carry them. Clearly you can’t be trusted with such a simple task. Idiot.”

  
“Prat.”

  
“Clotpole!”

  
“Dollop-hey, that’s my word!”

  
“Yes, and it suits you perfectly. Now, pick up my gear and walk. There’s more hunting to be had.”

  
With that, Arthur turned and strutted off into the bush, following a trail only he could see.

  
Merlin mumbled a quiet, “cabbage-face,” under his breath before following his ~~friend~~ master into the trees.

  
He immediately tripped over a root, dropped all of the equipment he was carrying, and landed flat on his face.

  
_“MERLIN!!!”_

  
“Coming sire!” Merlin sighed. It seemed it was one of _those_ days after all.

 

“Can we stop yet?” Merlin whined. “I’m hungry, my feet hurt, my back is sore and my throat is absolutely parched.”

  
He could hear Arthur’s eye roll, but the King didn’t even turn around to acknowledge Merlin’s kind request. Really, the only reason he was asking to stop for a break was because he could tell Arthur was tired. Honest. Okay, so maybe there was a bit of a cramp building in his bag from lugging around two packs and a host of weapons. And his stomach might have been grumbling incessantly for the past ten leagues. But that didn’t matter! Merlin could endure a bit of discomfort. He was only asking to stop for Arthur’s benefit. Really, truly!

  
“Arthurrrr. Come on, my arms will fall off soon if we don’t stop.” So there was that too. Maybe part of why he wanted to take a break was for selfish reasons, but mostly it was for Arthur.

  
“Don’t be such a girl, _Mer_ -lin,” the King said. Merlin could hear the smirk in his voice. Clearly, Arthur thought that calling him a girl was the highest, cleverest, most original insult ever. He had also clearly missed the fact that his servant was trying to give him a discreet way of resting without sacrificing his big, strong, rugged warrior image. What an ungrateful arse.

  
“You know, using ‘girl’ as an insult isn’t very kingly. Women and girls are stronger than I could ever hope to be. I’d be proud to be compared to someone like Gwen. Prat.”

  
“Hmm… You might just be right. Gwen would never complain as much as you do. Maybe I should’ve brought her on this hunt.”

  
Merlin snorted. “You’d never take anyone but me. You’d miss me too much if you went with anyone else. Come on, we both know it’s true, just admit it!”  
Arthur turned and threw one of the rabbits at Merlin’s head. He tried ducking, but somehow that made everything worse. His sudden movement made the precarious pile of spears, knives, bolts, and crossbow fall to the ground, causing one of the spears to crush his toes. On top of that, instead of hitting him in the chest as it would have had Merlin not moved, the hare smacked him right on the nose, before landing squarely in his still-outstretched arms. Arthur let out a loud, braying laugh at his servant’s shocked face.

  
“Alright, I guess we can stop for a short break,” the King finally conceded before leading them into a nearby clearing once the other man had reorganised his load.

  
Upon entering the little grove, Merlin immediately let the gear fall to the ground once more before rolling out his shoulders and sighing happily. He was just about to settle onto the grass for a quick nap when Arthur bumped shoulders with him and ordered him back into the trees to collect firewood. Of course, Merlin being Merlin, he refused to go quietly. He grumbled about insufferable prats and lazy arses the whole time he was collecting firewood, but he couldn’t be too upset with ~~his~~ the clotpole.

  
By the time Merlin got back to the clearing, both rabbits were skinned, cleaned, and they were already on a spit. Was that… It was! Arthur had even managed to find the salt and herbs in Merlin’s pack and had seasoned the rabbits.

  
Keeping up with his oblivious streak for the day, Merlin didn’t think anything of it. He should have known the prat wouldn’t prepare the rabbits for him out of the kindness of his own heart. He should have known Arthur was buttering him up, getting him all relaxed and happy, luring him into a false sense of security before delivering his blow.

  
It worked. Even more so since the sunlight filtering in through the leaves cast a golden glow around Arthur’s head, highlighting the wheat-coloured locks of hair and sharpening the angles of his face. It made him look even more angelic (and statuesque) than normal. Paired with his wide blue eyes, he was the picture of innocence.

  
Merlin stocked the fire and cooked the rabbits. He marveled at their flavour while eating them (was Arthur secretly taking lessons from Mary? Those were the best rabbits he’d ever tasted, not that he would ever tell his King that).

  
Then, Arthur ruined his mood once more.

  
“That’s enough lazing about, Merlin. I saw some boar tracks heading towards the stream just north of this clearing. Wouldn’t a boar’s head make a nice addition to the council chambers? From the tracks, I’d wager this one’s a real beast, too. Well, what are you waiting for? We’ve got a boar to catch!”

  
Merlin just gaped at the King. Surely he wasn’t serious about hunting a boar? Usually, he would take a whole troupe of knights out with him when he knew he would face a boar, and didn’t he remember that disastrous hunt with Cedric/Sigan when everyone had nearly died? There was no way he meant for them to hunt a giant boar all on their own, right?

  
Right?

  
Spoiler alert: Merlin was wrong.

 

“You just had to try and hunt the enormous boar on your own, didn’t you?” Merlin shouted at Arthur in between pants.

  
“I wasn’t alone though, was I? You were there!” Arthur yelled back.

  
“That’s not what I meant! I don’t know how to kill a boar. ARGH!” he responded before promptly tripping over a root and getting reacquainted with the forest floor. Arthur stopped, turned on a dime, and dragged him up by his wrist.

  
“Run you idiot, it’s catching up to us!”

  
Ignoring the slight twinge in his ankle, Merlin did just that. He ran like a wild boar was hot on his heels because, well, a wild boar _was_ hot on his heels.

  
A short while later, he chanced a glance over his shoulder. The boar was nothing more than a small speck in the distance.

  
“We’re losing him!” he said, relieved that he would live to see another day after all.

  
“Merlin! Stop! There’s a-"

  
“AHHHhhhhhhh!” Merlin screamed as he ran straight out over the edge of an abyss. When he made contact with the sharp incline, he scrambled for purchase in the loose dirt, cursing the recent dry spell as all he managed to tear away was a cloud of dust. He rolled uncontrollably towards the bottom of the pit, gaining about a hundred new bruises on his way down. At one point, his already aggravated ankle caught on a rock, and he thought for sure he would finally stop tumbling down the ravine, but his momentum wrenched his foot free and he continued towards the bottom. The last thing he saw was a blond head peaking over the edge of the cliff, and then everything went dark.

  
“At least I can sleep now,” he mumbled as he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

Arthur’s face was the first thing he saw when he woke. Groggy and in pain, he forgot for a moment where he was and panicked. There were no good reasons for the King’s presence in his manservant’s bedroom. He flailed about, rushing to jump out of bed but trying to appear nonchalant about it, as if he wasn’t hours late with his ~~friend~~ master’s breakfast. He was late though, if the sun’s position in the sky was to be believed. He cursed under his breath. No wonder the prat was in his room!

  
A heavy hand settled on his shoulder, stilling his movements and pushing him back down.

  
“Stay still, you absolute imbecile. You just fell off a cliff! Who knows what could be wrong with you,” Arthur snapped when Merlin tried once more to get up.

  
“Fell off a? Oh! Right! I knew that,” Merlin responded, finally catching on to the lack of a roof over his head and the missing bed under it. As the day’s events caught up to him, Merlin couldn’t help but glare at the King. “And whose fault is it that I fell off a cliff in the first place? Who thought it would be a good idea to hunt a giant boar without any backup?”

  
Arthur sighed and sat back on his heels. “Fine. Yes, I agree it was a misjudgement on my part. I should have known such a hunt would be dangerous and unsuccessful without the usual hunting party.”

“Was that an apology? Did you actually admit that I was right and you were wrong?”

  
“No, of course not,” Arthur answered too quickly, running a shaky hand through his hair. Noticing this, Merlin smiled.

  
“Were you worried about me?”

  
“What? No.”

  
“You were! Ha! I always knew you cared about me.”

  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yes, fine, I was worried about you. I’d just seen my best friend run straight off the edge of a cliff, and then you weren’t moving. You were just lying there, so still it was unsettling. You’re never still.”

  
Merlin blinked. Blinked again. He must really look horrible if Arthur was admitting that he liked him and that he had been worried. He was about to tease the prat about it, but then he saw how exhausted Arthur looked, the worry still clouding his eyes, and he decided against it. Instead, he mentally took stock of his body, making note of the pounding in his head, the twinge in his wrist, and the throbbing in his ankle. Figuring it was all just bruising and nothing more serious than that, he sat up. Then he tried to stand. It hurt, but he was sure it was nothing, so he kept going. He made it to his feet.

  
And immediately crumpled to the ground with a gasp.

  
“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked kneeling back down beside him.

  
Not wanting to worry him anymore than he already had, Merlin played down his injuries.

  
“I’m fine,” he said, “just stood up too quickly.”

  
“If you’re sure there’s nothing wrong…”

  
“I’m sure.”

  
“Then we’d best get back to the horses and find some shelter. It’s getting late.”

  
Merlin nodded and tried standing up again. His second attempt wasn’t any less painful than his first, and he hissed as his ankle throbbed sharply, but he stayed on his feet this time. With another quick nod, they set off.

  
He hadn’t noticed before, but Arthur must have carried him up from the bottom of the pit while he was unconscious, because they were at the top of the cliff now. Merlin didn’t say anything, but he was grateful he wouldn’t have to try climbing out with his injuries. He did wonder though just how Arthur had managed to both climb and carry his unconscious manservant at the same time. Especially since he was wearing armour and Merlin was taller than he was.

  
Maybe he’d downplayed his injuries too much. Certainly the pain in his ankle wasn’t getting any better and in fact seemed to be worsening the longer he walked. Arthur was slowly becoming a smaller and smaller speck of silver and gold in the distance. He tried to speed up, but that only made things worse and had him falling to the ground in pain. Hearing the thump his body made when he fell, Arthur turned around and ran back to his servant’s side.

  
“Merlin? What’s wrong? It’s your ankle, isn’t it? Why didn’t you say something? Come on, let’s get you standing and then you can lean on me.”

  
Merlin nodded. That certainly sounded better than trying to continue walking on his own.

  
It was slow going, but they managed like that for a few leagues. Arthur took most of Merlin’s weight, which made it easier for the servant to hobble around. Everything would have been fine if the weather had held. But alas, it was spring and that meant that the sun couldn’t stay out forever. Casting a worried glance at the clouds forming in the sky, Arthur tried to increase their pace, but Merlin was already going as fast as he could go. When the first drops of rain fell, Arthur cursed and tried once again to go faster. Merlin gasped, the new pace aggravating his injury. The King cursed again, looked at their surroundings, and turned to Merlin.

“I know you’re not going to like this, but it’s the only way we’ll get out of the rain before it drenches us,” he said.

  
“What do you- Arthur! Put me down! I’m not a sack of potatoes you can just pick up and throw around! What are you doing?!” Merlin shrieked. Really, the nerve! How dare his ~~friend~~ ~~king~~ friend scoop him up into his arms like he was some kind of swooning lady.

  
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m carrying you since you’re too slow to walk anywhere at a half decent pace. Now, I saw a cave just up here earlier, we’ll have to stop there for the night. With that rain, it’ll be too dangerous to walk back to the horses.”

  
Merlin sighed, but agreed with the King. He did have a point. He just hoped they would get to the cave soon so he could stop feeling useless.

  
Sure enough, the cave wasn’t far, but they were still soaked by the time Arthur set the smaller man down next to a wall.

  
“You know, Mer-lin, you’re far too light for a grown man. Gaius ought to be feeding you more,” Arthur said after depositing him on the ground.

  
“I eat plenty!” Merlin grumbled. “We can’t all be as big as you.”

  
Arthur paused his attempt at removing his armour. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

  
“No! I’m just saying you’re rather… broad. Yeah, you’re just thicker than I am.”

  
“I am not ‘thick’! I just lugged your useless lump across ten leagues! Could I have done that if I was anything less than fighting fit?”

  
Merlin couldn’t help it. Arthur was too easy to rile up, and his angry red face was hilarious. He burst out laughing, stopping the king’s rant in its tracks. Arthur looked at him in confusion for a few seconds before shaking his head and letting out a few small chuckles. Rolling his eyes, he went back to trying to take off his armour.

  
“Arthur, come here,” Merlin said, sliding up the wall. “I’ll help you take that off.”

  
“But your ankle-“

  
“My ankle’s fine. We need to get you out of that armour before it rusts into place and you get stuck.”

  
“Alright, if you insist.”

  
Arthur walked back over to Merlin who quickly undid the buckles on his chest plate and gauntlets with deft fingers. Discarding those beside him, he helped pull Arthur’s hauberk off, dropping it beside him as well.

  
“You should take off those wet clothes, too. Change into something dry,” the King suggested, retreating a short distance to remove his padded jacket and damp trousers.

  
Merlin was about to protest that his clothes were in his pack, which they’d left behind, when a leather sack hit the wall next to him. Huh. He hadn’t even noticed that Arthur had picked up their supplies. Thankful that he would at least be able to change into a dry tunic, Merlin turned around and changed with his back to his friend. Facing Arthur after he was done, he saw that the king was already unrolling his bedroll, so he shook his out too, and made himself comfortable under his blankets.

  
“Goodnight, Arthur,” he said.

  
“Night, Merlin.”

  
He closed his eyes, ready for sleep to take him after such a stressful day. He could already feel the coldness of a wet spring night seeping into his bones, but he tried to ignore it. He huddled deeper under his covers, determined to sleep in spite of the cold, to no avail. Soon he was shivering, teeth chattering. He tossed and turned as he tried to get warm, until a sigh stilled him.

  
“You know, you wouldn’t feel the cold so much if you had a bit of meat on your bones.”

  
“Wouldn’t feel it if we were back at the castle, either, so.”

  
Another sigh, and the sound blankets dragging on the ground. Then something soft landed on top of his blankets, and Merlin was being pushed closer to the wall. A warm weight settled next to him. Heavy arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a strong chest. He tried not to smile, knowing that Arthur was only doing it to prevent him from freezing to death. That didn’t stop him from tucking his cold feet between Arthur’s shins, though. The man was _warm_ , okay. Anyone would do the same if they were given the opportunity.

  
Nestled in his King’s arms, warm and cozy despite the air’s chill, Merlin quickly fell asleep. Arthur drifted off soon after. It was the best sleep either of them had ever had. (But not the best they would ever get. After returning to the castle, they would spend the night wrapped around each other in Arthur’s bed. That would be the best sleep they would ever have.)


	2. Chapter 2

 


End file.
